Prelude of the Unnamed
by Buried In Ash
Summary: All actions carry consequences.
1. Passage I

We were young. Not just physically, but metaphorically as well. When the gods came for the first time, my ancestors had only just begun to adorn themselves in the pelts of the hunt. They looked upon the gods, descending from the heavens and were awed by their majesty, their beauty. They were flawless.

They gave protection, their presence tamed the lands and allowed my people to settle. The need to travel and chase our food became antiquated. If we were want of anything, the gods provided the chance for us to create it ourselves. Grains, cattle, shelter: it was all attainable to us. The gods had one final gift for us as well. The gift of ascension.

Among us an anointed and chosen few could, through studious worship and labor, be given the chance to rise with them to the heavens. To never be for want of anything. The gods only required one thing. They wanted our soil, from it they grew armies, arrayed and armed in the colors of the world with tools we had never yet conceived.

And so it would be. Every month land was razed, scoured, and made ready for the reception of their light. The land was laid bare, and the gods were pleased. So our people grew. Our numbers grew, our needs advanced, we desired to know. Perhaps that is why they denied us their glory.

By the time of my birth, the gods never made trips to earth. Only their emissaries would arrive from the heavens, seeking their tribute. And we would give it to them. But there were those who wanted to refuse. Those who wanted to question those gods and their ways. I was not one of them. I just happened to be close to her.

Jaud-ry, she was the daughter of the priest. She fancied herself a warrior and had the unyielding strength to be one. She was injured many a time, while engaging in her unorthodox escapades. This is how I had first met her. My mother was the caretaker of our people, the "medicine woman" if you will. I spent much time near Jaud-ry as a result, I never understood why she took to me the way she had. Before I knew it, she was dragging me along with her. Even as I kicked and screamed against her.

My father had died young, He was an impetulant Hunter but the best our people knew. He hunted creatures much larger than himself, faster than him, far strong than him, and, occasionally, far smarter than him. He died hunting an emu, it kicked him into a river during the flood season.

My Mother wanted for me to learn the ways of mending the wounded as her mother had taught her. I did not oppose her. I had many of my father's traits, his strength, his temper, his brashness… his gender. But I desired not to be like him. I didn't want to harm anyone, only see them thrive.

Perhaps that is why Jaud-ry took to me so quickly.

We had many a mishap together. We'd run out into the night to stare at the heavens, despite the wolves and predators. We'd run naked through the temples, laughing like madmen. We'd drink from the sacred wines, waking the next morning to our parent's curses and the bite of our own headaches. Through all of it, I did protest… at first. Nothing came between us. We were hardly into the years where the bodies of men and women begin their change but we were inseparable. If you saw one of us, the other was probably not too far behind.

I was probably only entering my seventeenth year when, Jaud-ry came to me with a proposal. Watch the gods as they birthed their armies from the earth. She wanted to see, but it had been forbidden since the time of our ancestors to look upon the gods as they worked. Not since they had cast out their deceiver.

I told her it was foolish, dangerous even. We shouldn't be trying to incur the wrath of the gods, who had blessed us with such life. But… she had a way with words. So it happened, on the day of the sacrificial we waited, till after the gods descended with their monoliths and told us to be gone. Jaud-ry and I bid our time, till the sun had vanished beyond the horizon and only the moon and stars lit the world.

We watched as the monolith came to life, light and sound hissing from it like a great horrific beast. We watched it thrust itself into the earth, as light pulsated through the ground and concentrated itself. We watched as the Armies rose. They were as beautiful as the priests had spoken… and unfathomably terrifying.

We watched for half the night as the army grew. We watched them spar amongst themselves, hulking beings who tossed each other around as though they weighed little more than a feather. Their revelry ceased when a being approached. They were small and lithe, barely a fraction the size of the soldiers. But the soldiers regarded her as though she were far greater than them. We could not hear what she said, nor would we have understood. As the language of the gods was indecipherable to us. But we knew of one thing for certain. When an army is readied for war.

They formed rank and moved, fleet like the river in a storm. Their course: our home.

Jaud-ry and I, fearful of what was coming, knowing this was a punishment wrought for our actions, flew to our home. Fast as our feet could carry us, as hard as we could drive ourselves. But we were too late. We arrived in time to see our home razed and our people captured. Some had been slain, their bodies fed to the flames. Jaud-ry fought, taking a burning timber she tried to save our fellows. But even her strength, with which I'd seen her fend off many mighty beasts, was no match for an army of gods. They bound her and made quick work of me as well. We feared the worst, knowing our crime and the toll that was to be paid for it.

We were left with it, as the gods marched us and our people away. To whatever fate we'd brought on them.


	2. Passage II

We walked for days. The sun rising and setting as we were forced on. Few of my people tried to fight back. I shan't say what happened to those who did. We walked beyond the lands of our ancestors and far beyond the lands of our neighbors. It was a long journey. Many of my people grew weary and perished before their time. But Jaud-ry and I survived. We gave strength to each other. Even as the gods made us to climb the frozen peaks of the mountains, brave the wild depths of the jungle, and cross the scorching heat of the desert. It was punishment, Jaud-ry made it little more than labor.

After weeks of travel, we arrived. Before us stood a city more beautiful than we'd ever seen. A city of the gods. Structures as tall as mountains and glassy as ice pierced the heaven. Everything reflected the light of the sun like the surface of the water. There were things beyond description. Things that could produce light brighter than any fire our people had made. Things that moved the gods faster than any horse or man ever could.

On everything were these indecipherable symbols. They looked akin to the ancient texts and scrolls the priests and chiefs would read from. A tongue and word I'd never been taught. Jaud-ry however, had been. She tried explaining what some of them said as we were marched through their city. She had not learned all of their language either. But she told me what she could. There was one symbol, however, I did not require her help to understand. The symbol of four. The symbol that had adorned my people's homes since the gods presented themselves.

We were marched through their city, for their amusement. All around us the gods laughed or looked upon us in amazement. The animals who dared to think they could look upon their rituals and go unpunished for it. Though they eventually grew weary and decided to continue our punishment elsewhere.

The gods herded us into one of their structures. We feared what was to come, having so many of our people already. They left us in a cell. One that was a naught but a mockery to the home we had left. The vegetation sprang forth from the ground would hardly pass as sustenance for cattle. The light that shone down on us was harsher than the sun, burning brighter but giving no warmth. The waters of the pools they gave to us were tepid, teeming with creatures that made the brackish water unfit to drink. Perhaps the food that they gave us proved the biggest challenge. Being more akin to rocks. They had the habit of poisoning some who ate of them. Further still our people dwindled.

The nights were cold and harsh. There were no stars to gaze upon, nor moon to give us solace. Everything in that place was controlled by the gods. Except for us. Jaud-ry was the only reason I had survived until then. She was the only reason I continued to survive those frigid nights that claimed more of our people. I... could do nothing for her in return. I wanted desperately to do so. But what could I do for her? I was the child of a fool and a healer. I had no place where only a survivor could thrive.

With each day more were lost. Their bodies taken by the gods from those who were left to grieve. At times, they would even take those who had not yet passed. Never to see their kin again. Parents would tell their children that those who passed were taken for their rites. That those who lived were taken for ascension. Trying to help them understand why the gods that had showered them with prosperity all their lives had turned on them so.

Soon there were no children. Soon there were no more than a scant dozen of my people remaining. The elders and the infirm who had not been claimed in death's embrace yet. Jaud-ry had taken to hiding where she believed the gods could not find her. Only ever returning once night had fallen and their eyes could no longer pry.

One night she came to me, panting and coated with sweat. She roused me from my slumber and took me with her. She took me through a hole in our cell and dragged me with her. She led me through the God's designs trying to explain what she had seen, what was coming. But the gods were smarter than we, wiser than we. They found us before our escape had been complete. They separated us, pried us apart and drove us away from the other.

I wanted to resist, to put forth a fight and be with Jaud-ry. But I could not match their strength. I was but a child compared to them. To Jaud-ry it made no difference. She didn't fight the gods, but ran from them. Ducking and dodging every attempt they made to apprehend her. She would not lose me. The gods took note of her tenacity. No human could ever match up with the power of a god. They eventually struck her down, she lived but was no better than I.

The gods took us not back to our cell, but to finally receive our punishment. They lead us higher into the structure. They placed us before a god that had not been seen in generations. One of the four. Her beauty had been spoken of in tales and sung in hymns. I had never truly believed it until I'd seen it for myself.

Our captors spoke with the one, I could not understand what was spoken. Jaud-ry knew better than I. Her fear was telling. What was told of our people to the one was enough to elicit a smile. One that filled Jaud-ry with dread.

When our captors had finished the one delivered her punishment. I truly did not understand. Jaud-ry and I were forcibly separated, dragged away before each. I did not understand what was happening. I called to Jaud-ry as we grew further apart, begging her to explain what was happening. She wanted to say so many things to me, she did not want this to be where we were driven apart. I begged her to explain. She spoke.

We were to be tested.


	3. Passage III

They did not return us to the cage of our people. Such was our transgression that we could no longer be returned to them. For we had sinned. For we had wrought the wrath of the gods upon them and deserved the punishment we were to receive.

They loosed us into a labyrinth of stone and mirrors. Far distanced was the sun's warmth and the whisper of the wind. Here there was only the cold echoing of the god's fury. I was left to wander.

For what felt an eternity I stumbled amongst the stones, aimless and weary. My mind fell into a haze as hunger set in. I wanted to give in, But I could hear her. Far in the distance, echoing like the cry of a falcon in flight, I could hear Jaud-ry searching for me. She cried my name, worry rife within her voice. Even as strength evaded me I cried in return for her. But my voice could not reach her. Her voice grew distant and my heart was rent asunder.

But I would not lose her. I rose and carried myself after her voice. Feet flying as fast as they could be driven, heart thundering a storm in my chest. I ran for ages. Down twisting, narrow halls of stone and across endless chasms of crystalline glass. I moved with purpose. If we were to suffer this punishment by the gods then so be it. But neither of us would face it alone. I would not let her face it alone.

I found her at last, my limbs numb and my body all but spent, amidst a field of crystal spires. She'd spent all of her time searching for me as well, unable to find a way to free us from this labyrinth of cold stone. She begged me for forgiveness. For she truly believed that she alone was the cause for our people's suffering. I gave her no satisfaction. How could I forgive what I had been party to?

We collapsed into each other and wept for hours. We wept for our people, our families, and for our own ignorance. For truly, this all of our own cause. Our fates had been sealed the moment we had dared to view the gods.

We embraced and laid among the spires. Together in the dark we were left to face eternity together. We had made our peace with our actions. We could only pray that our people would no longer suffer for our crimes. Despite all, I felt content in knowing that neither of us would face lay ahead alone. I felt content to remain with Jaud-ry, as we journeyed to the unknown. I felt content, knowing I had lived knowing her. I was content.

The Gods would not have it.

Around us they descended like wolves, the soldiers of the gods. They desired to separate us once more. I was no match for them. Their strength dwarfed me and Jaud-ry. They snatched her away like fruit from a tree and fled with her. They aimed to do the same to me, to scatter us back throughout the labyrinth until we finally could bear it no longer. But I was the child of a fool. And I would not have it.

I wrestled free of their grasp and soared after Jaud-ry. I cared not how spent my body was, how taxed my legs were, how devoid of energy my being had become. I ran as fast as my feet would go and strode to go beyond. The soldiers of the gods nipped my heels at every turn. Gaining on me every chance they could. Jaud-ry remained ahead of me, clutched in the mighty hands of the orchid soldiers. Even as they fled the labyrinth, daring to seal me in, I snaked through and continued even as the numbers at my back grew.

Until at last they went where I could not follow.

They boarded their chariots and took to the wind. And with them, Jaud-ry. Their chariot bent and contorted like water before disappearing into the sky. Only I was left to watch. Until I collapsed once more to my knees, sobbing to any god that would hear me to return her. To return my Jaud-ry.

They refused my words.

The soldiers approached me with caution. My flight had left them wary of my determination. They feared that I would take flight once more if they drew too close. They feared wrong.

I took of the ground around me, the largest stone I could see. With fury I lunged at the nearest of the guards. I swung the stone with abandon, bouncing fruitless against the soldier, eliciting naught but laughter. Until I struck their symbol of divinity, cracking it clear through. The soldier could only look in horror before fading away. I the child of a fool, had slain a god.

And they were to punish me for that as well.

Without hesitation, the compliment of gods grabbed me, bending and breaking everything they could so that I may no longer fight again. They took me away from their city, dragging me through the dirt to another land. A land of death. The birthing grounds of the gods.

They threw me into a cavern, surrounded by others of my tribe. They sealed us in with stone and left us to die. I could hear the tribesmen, clawing and pushing at the stone to move it. To free themselves from what came next.

A sound I'd never heard before filled the air and the stone roof of the cavern began to glow. Their fear grew to panic as they tried to free themselves. But I laid there. Weeping and in pain, knowing that I would never be with Jaud-ry again. We'd never lay under the full moon. We'd never reap or sow another harvest. We'd never see what our children would grow to accomplish.

I wept bitterly. Cursing the gods for their vengeance, praying that the wrath that they'd lain upon my people would one day be meted out in return to them. That they'd see what they cherished taken from them. That they'd know love, only for it to be ripped from them for the smallest of slights.

As the light engulfed me, I lost my anger. I only wished to be with Jaud-ry.


End file.
